


Legacy

by belmione



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra, Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Family, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-17
Updated: 2012-11-25
Packaged: 2017-11-16 12:03:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/539212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belmione/pseuds/belmione
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bei Fongs are tough.  Bei Fongs use restraint.  Bei Fongs wait and listen, before they strike and strike hard.  Bei Fongs don’t back down, give all of themselves, never give up, are there to protect.  Bei Fongs protect the ones they love.  Bei Fongs survive.  Bei Fongs sacrifice.  And Bei Fongs know when it’s time to leave.  And Lin knows it is her time. A story about Lin's relationship with her mother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! So I posted this last night all in one go. And tonight thought, you know, this is kind of WAY too lengthy to be posted in one big chapter. So I've now decided to split it up and it'll be a multichap. A few were lucky enough to catch it before I split it all up, haha. But you can expect regular updates as the thing is largely complete. So this is about Lin's relationship with her mother. Hope you all enjoy!

Lin thinks of her mother constantly.  She always has.  She has always possessed a secret, smug pride about her mother, not that she’d ever show it like she used to when she was young.  Being the Chief of Police requires, or _required_ , a touch more restraint and gravitas.  But it is the thought of her mother, her pig-headed, boisterous, joking, fighting whirlwind of a mother that puts the steel in her spine, the stone in her expression, the flint in her eyes.  She raised Lin that way.  From the time Lin could barely walk, she knew what it meant to be a Bei Fong.  

Her mother would regale her with tales of her war-time adventures with her Uncle Aang, Uncle Sokka, and Aunt Katara.  She would sit in a loose semi-circle with her friends, with her cousins Kya, Bumi, and Tenzin.  Her mother and Uncle Sokka were the ringleaders, relaying their stories with exaggerated detail, punctuated by a sweet comment form her placid Uncle Aang, and an occasional visit back to reality from Aunt Katara.  Mostly, though, her mother and Uncle Sokka bickered over details.  Usually, this ended in a strong slug from her mother to Uncle Sokka’s arm, and the debate ended right there.

Even at a young age, discriminating Lin knew her mother had a penchant for exaggeration.  But she also knew, from the look on her Aunt and Uncles’ faces that, even as much of a braggart as she was, her mother’s stories were never too far from the truth.  She could tell that her demand for recognition and admiration, her insistence that she was an earthbending genius, the greatest earthbender to have ever lived, was _warranted_.  She could tell in the way Uncle Aang, the Avatar, ducked his head in deference to her, the way Aunt Katara’s ocean-blue eyes shone with love and respect, the way Uncle Sokka gave her playful, but admiring smiles.  Her mother was extraordinary.  Everyone knew it.  And whenever she finished one of her signature tales, she’d lean down to Lin and whisper in her ear, “Because that’s what us Bei Fongs do,” with a conspiratorial wink.

For a while, it made Lin rival her mother in how brash and reckless she was.  She was a Bei Fong.  She was Toph Bei Fong’s daughter.  Her mother was the greatest earthbender to have ever lived, the inventor of metalbending, Chief of Police in Republic City, the head of the metalbending police.  But the day her mother found her at air temple island against her orders, having just earthbended poor Bumi, and even little Tenzin, halfway into the ground, her jawline clenched, teeth grinding like rough granite.

She had Lin’s little foot earthbended to the ground in seconds.  Bumi and a tearful Tenzin watched, neck-deep in rock as their Aunt Toph stamped her foot and hurled them, none-too-gently, out of the earth.  Suddenly, the earth under Lin’s foot rotated sharply, and she was facing her mother head on.  

Her mother kneeled down, nearly nose to nose with Lin, head and milky, sightless eyes canted slightly downwards as always, dark hair across her face, the angle of her head and stance making her look like a mountain ram about to charge.  Lin gulped, but didn’t turn her head.  The only thing worse than disobeying her mother would be to cower away from her punishment.   Lin knew that Bei Fongs took what was coming to them head-on, whether they deserved it or not.  Her mother would give her hell if she so much as thought about flinching.

“Come with me,” she had growled, releasing Lin’s foot at the same time that her fist closed around Lin’s wrist, hard and resilient as rock, dragging her back towards home.  Lin followed her until she spun and stopped dead in front of their front door.  Lin noticed that her mother hadn’t bended her foot to the ground, had not attempted to stop any sort of retreat.  She could get away, if she wanted.  But she knew better.  Lin planted bare, grubby feet right to that spot, opposite her mothers’.  She seemed to nod a little in slight approval before laying in to Lin.  Lin made sure not to flinch.

“Why were you at air temple island when I told you no?  Explain.  And make it worth my time.”

Lin took a deep breath, arms clasped behind her back.

“I was bored and wanted to practice my earthbending,” Lin said, clear, confident, and honest.

“Any reason you decided to send Bumi and Twinkletoes Jr. halfway to the center of the earth?”

Lin shrugged.

“Don’t shrug at me.  Give me a real answer.”

“Because I knew I could.”

Toph snorted at her like a disgruntled boar, clearly displeased.  Lin protested, scrambling to defend herself.

“Bumi challenged me!”

“Did he?” she quirked an eyebrow.

“Yeah!  He told me he could beat me even if he wasn’t a bender.”

Her mother shrugged.

“Well, he got what was coming to him, then.  Did Tenzin challenge you, too?”

“No.”

“Then why’d ya put him in the ground?”

“He cried when I beat Bumi.”

LIn’s mother sighed, miffed.  To this day, she’s not sure if her mother sighed at her pigheaded-ness or Tenzin’s crying.

“So, pretty much for no reason.”

“You punch Uncle Sokka for no reason.”

“No, I punch Uncle Sokka because he’s being an idiot.”

“Crying like that means he’s an idiot, though, right?”

“Lin, quit trying to get away with it.  You’re in trouble.”

“But I thought it was fine!  Bei Fongs are supposed to be tough, right?”

“Oh yeah, they are.  But you gotta learn that there’s a difference between being tough and being mean, kiddo.  It was something I had to learn, too.”

Lin had scoffed a little, thinking that Tenzin was just acting like a weakling.  As if reading her mind, Lin’s mother interrupted the thought.

“Do I think Twinkletoes Jr. was overreacting?  Yeah, totally.  But he didn’t challenge you and it looked like you were hurting him a little, short stuff.  You’re gonna have to learn some restraint.  Just because you can doesn’t mean you should.”

“You sound like Uncle Aang,” Lin muttered just a touch distastefully.

“Oh, come on, you love Uncle Aang.  His advice isn’t all bad.  You can’t hurt people and you shouldn’t go picking fights with people who haven’t done anything to you.”

“But I thought earthbending was about-”

Lin’s mother cut her off.

“A good earthbender waits and listens before she strikes.  And when you hear someone challenge you, then you can, and should, whoop their butt,” she grinned the wide, cocky grin Lin loved.  “But not until, short stuff.”

Lin frowned, skeptical.

“I don’t get it.”

“I think it’s time I taught ya, then, half-pint.  But not until next week, because you’re grounded this week.”

“What?!  I’m grounded because I hurt stupid Tenzin?”

“A little.  But mostly because you disobeyed me.  If Republic City has to listen to me and follow my rules, so do you.”

“I thought Uncle Sokka said you hated rules.”

“Mostly, yeah.  Why do you think I made sure I was the one who got to make ‘em?”

“Rules are dumb.”

“Sometimes.  I tried to make mine as non-dumb as possible.  But you still have to follow them.  When you’re as awesome as me, then you can make the rules.  But for now, you gotta answer to me,” her mother had grinned widely.

Lin huffed to herself.  But she remembers that day.  That was the day that Lin learned that Bei Fongs use restraint;  Bei Fongs wait and listen before they strike, and strike hard.

Lin thinks often of her mother teaching her.  She remembers, in particular, that week after she was grounded.  When she learned what it meant to wait and listen.  She remembers walking for a long time down a hard-packed, dusty dirt path, watching a tiny, whitish butterfly flit along beside them.

“Mommy, a butterfly!  There!”

“Sorry, short stuff.  If it’s in the air, I can’t see it.  I’m sure it’s very pretty, though.”

“Why can’t you see it in the air?  I thought you could still see.  With your feet.”

“I see with earthbending, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, if it’s not touching the earth, I won’t see it.”

“Oh.  Can you see colors?”

“‘Fraid not.  I don’t see quite the same way you do, kid.”

“Oh.  What do things look like to you?”

“That’s what I’m going to show you.”

“Really?”

“Yep.”

“I wish I could show you how I see,” LIn remembers telling her.  Her mother had laughed, good-natured.

“Don’t worry about it, short stuff.  If I didn’t ‘see’ the way I do, I wouldn’t be nearly as amazing as I am.”

Lin remembers having felt a bit suspicious as they approached what looked like a deep tunnel, burrowing into the mountainside.

“Are we going in there?”

“Yeah.  But before we do, stop right here.”

Lin had obeyed without question.

“Close your eyes.”

And suddenly, there was the sensation of a band of linen around her eyes.  And then complete darkness.

“There.  Now come with me.”

“But it’s all dark!  I can’t see!”

“Oh no.  What a nightmare.”

Lin giggled, recognizing the line from one of Sokka’s stories.

“Sorry.  But how am I supposed to know where I’m going?”

“You’re going to learn to see like me.”

“Okay.”

Her mother had led her along, deep underground.  Lin had long since lost track of how many turns they had taken when her mother let go of her.

“Mommy?”

Her mother’s voice was suddenly very far away.

“Now, you’re going to find your way out.”

“You’re leaving me?!”

“I’ll be at the exit.”

“But what if something happens?”

“I’ll be able to see where you are the whole time.  You know I won’t let anything hurt you.”

“But-”

“Lin, if you’re tough enough to put your cousins halfway in the ground, you’re tough enough to figure out how to get out.”

“But-”

“Come on, Lin!  Show some backbone!  Bei Fongs don’t back down.  If you’re scared, that’s fine.  But don’t you dare show it, and you better never let it stop you.  Now go.  Find your way out.  Just remember to listen.”

Lin stood in the cool, damp tunnel, stock still.  She didn’t move for a long time.  Just listened to the sound of her own breath reverberating in the space around her.  Then she heard a rumble far up the tunnel, to her left somewhere.  She couldn’t tell exactly where, or exactly what it was.  Only that it sounded big and very, very frightening.  She could feel the earth under her rumble as it got closer.  In waves.  Every few seconds, vibrations, moving like the ripples her Aunt Katara and cousin Kya always made in the water, reached her and continued out past her, to the far reaches of the tunnel.  Lin remained motionless, too scared to do anything else.  And the vibrations were getting stronger.  The ripples were closer together.  Soon, they became a constant thrum until Lin could smell another presence close to her, could feel just in the way the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end that there was something close.  But she couldn’t tell where.  The vibrations were there, but they were indistinct.  She couldn’t sense them with the precision she needed to.  Lin had gasped audibly when she realized what she needed to do.  She kicked her shoes off with lightning speed.  The thrumming continued, but she could pinpoint it now.  The thing was to her right.  It felt like it was moving towards her.  It felt big.

It was there.  Lin remembers barely suppressing a little shout when the thing had started snuffling by her ear.  She stood, still but strong, hoping it wasn’t hostile.  It was an animal, whatever it was.  Lin felt more vibrations, coming right from it.  It was _earthbending_ , she realized, as the pebbles on the cave floor rattled with the animal.  The animal was earthbending.  Lin started giggling as it continued to shuffle at her and she realized what it was.  She had always thought her mother was joking, sarcastic as always, when she told Lin where she learned earthbending.  She thought she had been trying to make Lin and her cousins laugh.  But she had been telling the truth.

“You’re a badgermole,” Lin whispered to it.  She felt the thing continue to send out the vibrating waves with its earthbending.  It did it constantly.  Lin wondered why, deciding to try it out for herself.  She rumbled the ground beneath her feet.  Nothing.  She couldn’t feel anything but the vibrations she was creating.  The badgermole noticed, shuffling for a moment, before sending its own little wave back at her.  It did it twice more, as if trying to tell her what to do.

“Yeah, you know I don’t know what to do,” she’d told it.  Suddenly she felt a hard nudge from the thing’s massive paw.  It knocked her clear over, onto her hands and knees.  It continued to poke at her and rumble the ground under them.

“Okay!  I’m trying!” she rumbled the ground under her.  The badgermole barked, disgruntled.

“What?”

It sent more waves out.  She scowled, concentrating on them, trying to figure out what it wanted.  As the waves extended, she felt them reverberate across the ground, up the cave wall, farther down the tunnel, down the vast maze of tunnels spider-webbing off in an infinite labyrinth.  She could see it _all_.  Well, not really see.  She couldn’t tell the color of the walls, couldn’t determine texture.  But Lin could sense where things were.  She could feel outlines and shapes.  She tried sending out her own little wave.  A barely-perceptible tremor.  She gasped, feeling the outline of the creature in front of her.  It was enormous, with large paws and thick, blade-like claws, tiny ears, long snout, and wriggly bald tail.  She tried sending out a stronger one, stamping her foot, squatting in a horse stance with her fists at her sides, elbows back like she always watched her mother do.  She cackled as the network of tunnels blossomed before her as vibrations in the earth under her bounced against resilient rock and came back at her.  She felt the badgermole snort in approval.  She laughed, before jumping high in the air, propelled by earthbending, coming down, hard, on both feet.  She grinned when she felt one of the tunnels extend all the way to the surface and she felt a familiar shape leaning against the mouth of the cave.  She felt bare feet, crossed arms, a flowing tunic cinched with a strong belt, strands of hair hanging over an oval face and, if Lin scowled hard enough, she swore she felt a wide grin.  She stamped her foot again, trying to see how her mother saw other people.  Vague shapes.  Outlines, but surprisingly detailed ones.  She could feel clothing outlines, hair shapes, some facial features.  And she could definitely feel her mother’s unmistakable smile all the way from the belly of the cave system.  She felt a vibration of a laugh, felt her mother’s foot come down, playfully, in response to her.  She started walking towards the exit.

It was slow work.  Lin wasn’t used to relying on her earthbending in order to see.  Sometimes, she misjudged and went down the wrong tunnel.  Sometimes, she tripped, or ran into things, unused to her new sight.  And sometimes, she noted annoyed, the badgermoles would change a tunnel and she had to alter her course completely.

But soon, her mother’s outline, still, patient, and smiling, got closer and stronger.  The smell of her, of sun, and earth, and grass, and sandalwood, drifted down to her.  Soon, she was standing, tall and proud, in front of her.  She felt her lean down, chuckling.

“You made it.”

Lin nodded.  She hesitated before reaching out and placing her small hands on her mother’s face as her mother often did with her, her cousins, her aunts and uncles.  She ran her hands over her mother’s smiling face, trying to see her like she saw Lin.  Mother had chuckled softly.

“Hey, kiddo.”

“This is how you see me?”

“Yeah.  What do you think?  Cool or not?”

“Definitely cool.  Did I do everything right?”

“Did you make it out?”

“Yes.”

“Then you did great.  You did a good job, Lin.”

“I think the way you see is better.”

A raucous laugh followed.

“Thank you.  Glad you like it.  Because all your earthbending training from now on is going to happen like this.”

Lin couldn’t even bring herself to pout about it.  She couldn’t do anything but grin.  Her mother was proud of her and that was all that had mattered then.  That was when Lin had learned that Bei Fongs didn’t see things the way others did.  And it was wonderful.


	2. Chapter 2

Lin remembers training.  Grueling training.  To Mother’s credit, Lin was never forced to.  She made it very clear that Lin did not have to be anything she didn’t want to be.  If Lin didn’t want to be a bender, even though she had been born with the skill, her mother had insisted that she didn’t have to be.  She had told Lin from the time Lin could comprehend words that she could be whatever she wanted and that she would love her the same regardless.  But Lin _wanted_ to learn.  She wanted to be as tough as her mother.  She wanted to be able to do things that were extraordinary, like her.  She trained every spare minute her mother had to teach her, and practiced every minute that she was away.  She stopped to sleep and eat.  Lin _loved_ earthbending.  She was born with the skill, so whether she honed it or not, the earth spoke to her.  She could feel it hum with energy under her feet, a constant presence.  But she loved learning to speak back.  It defined her.  There were days that Lin spent the entire day blind, like her mother, practicing until she couldn’t lift her arms anymore.  Most of the time she was blindfolded, it wasn’t even her mother’s suggestion.  She just did it herself.  There were days she would test herself and go walking out in the city, to see if she could navigate it with bending, the way Mother did.  More than once, Mother would stumble across her as she was on patrol, or one of her officers would.  They would invariably send her back home, but Lin could hear them trying to contain the smiles in their speech.  Once, she made it all the way to the edge of the city, took the blindfold off long enough to swim across Yue bay (which she was not supposed to do, but did anyway frequently) and showed up, dripping, barefoot and re-blindfolded, to Uncle Aang’s amusement.  He had laughed and ruffled her hair.

“That’s how it’s done!  That’s how Toph taught me!  Wanna practice with me?” he had asked, excited, like a small child finding an old game they loved.

“Yeah!” Lin gasped, excited to be able to practice with another earthbender.  And Uncle Aang was the Avatar, so he was bound to have an unusual style, influenced by all the other elements as he was.

“Okay!  Tenzin!  Come here and blindfold me!”

Lin could feel Tenzin’s quirked eyebrow.

“Father, why?”

Lin would’ve rolled her eyes if they weren’t covered.  He was way too serious.

“I’m going to practice earthbending with Lin!  It’s better if you can’t see.”

Tenzin wordlessly, cautiously, tied a scarf around his father’s eyes.

“Okay!  I promise no other elements and no Avatar state.  First person to fall over wins!  Give me your best shot, Bei Fong!” he giggled.

Lin wasted no time in punching a veritable boulder towards him.  Aang spun away from it.  He was still grounded, but the way he moved was not anything Lin was used to.  That was airbending stuff.  She scowled, sending a pillar right under him.  Aang stayed under the pillar, rising up with it, before stomping back down on it, sending the force of her own blow back at her.  Was that a waterbending thing? He did pull the punch a little.  Lin growled.  She didn’t want pulled punches!  Aang finally took the offensive, flinging rocks at her with fast, direct punches.  Definitely firebending.  So Lin decided to fight fire with fire.  She had never done these moves before, but she could mimic them, and she punched her own rock at him, in the same fashion.  He nodded.

“Hey, that’s great!  Keep going, try this!”

Aang swung back and forth with an obvious waterbending move, and as a result, the rock flew, curved, at her.

“Catch it!  Use the force of my attack to fuel your own!”

Lin didn’t catch it.  Instead, she sent it curving back in a full circle, straight for him.

“Woah!  Nice job!  You almost knocked my head clean off!  Okay, the key to this one is to out-maneuver, and out-power me!  Go!”

Aang punched another two rocks, hard and fast, at her.  Firebending again.  Lin dodged the rocks as she was told.

“Try a kick!  Firebenders do a lot of kicking in the air!  It’s really forceful!”

Lin did as he suggested, powering a rock out of the ground, and kicking it with her other leg with a leap, like she sometimes saw Fire Lord Zuko’s daughter do, when they visited.  The rock flew with a speed she didn’t think was possible.  Aang barely dodged it.

“Good!  Okay, let’s do some plain old earthbending,” he grinned, sensing that Lin wanted to practice what she knew.  Aang slid into the same grounded stance Lin adopted.  Lin smiled as she felt him step forward just a little.  This was her turf.  She sent a small rock under his foot, trying to trip him up.  He managed to get away from it, but not as fast as Lin would have.  She knew she had him.  She just had to tire him out.  He was good, she had to give him that.  After all, her mother had taught him.  In a real fight, of course he would win.  He had three other elements under his belt and she was a kid even so.  But in earthbending, just plain earthbending, Lin knew she was better than him, even as young as she was.  She just waited.  Waited for him to slip as she deftly blocked whatever he threw at her.  It took a few minutes, but eventually he did.  It was a stance Lin knew well.  And as Aang slid into the stance, he moved his foot just a little too soon.  Lin easily redirected it and suddenly, she felt Uncle Aang’s form topple to the ground.  She laughed and Aang giggled with her.

“You are your mother’s daughter, sweetheart,” he grinned at her.  “Only you would be able to bend like that at your age.”  Lin nodded once, as if even debating that was foolish.

“Well done,” he grinned.  “Come on, Tenzin’s got some airbending practice to do.  Why don’t you take this off and watch for a while?  I think you’ve got the hang of earthbending with it on.”

Lin smiled and obeyed, watching Tenzin do his airbending forms.  They didn’t make much sense to her.  She was too used to simple, rooted stances to be able to fathom the light, spiraling movements, the flips and hops and leaps.  But she had to admit, they did have a certain beauty.  A freshness, a lightness.  It was the first time she had ever wondered about bending a different element.  The thought didn’t last long.  No, it would be too devastating to lose the hum in the earth under her toes.  She liked how heavy and clear it was.  A strong and comforting presence, like her mother.  The earth would always be there, just like she would.  They were taking care of things.  Nothing could shake them.  Lin smiled, comforted at the thought, and watched Tenzin practice, eating lychee nuts with her Uncle Aang beside her.

When Mother had found her at the end of the day at Air Temple Island, at first she was furious.  Why wasn’t Lin home?  If she was planning on coming here, why didn’t someone tell her so she didn’t panic when she got home and Lin wasn’t there?  Lin inhaled deeply, about to explain, knowing she’d be in trouble, when Uncle Aang covered for her.

“Toph, stop.  It was my idea.  I invited her here to practice earthbending with me.  I should’ve told you.  I’m sorry, I didn’t want to frighten you.  But she’s been safe here with me all day.”

“Hmph.  I guess I forgive you, Twinkletoes.  How’d she do?  What does she need work on?”

“I don’t know.  I really don’t.  She uh-” Aang scratched the back of his neck like Sokka was wont to do.  “She beat me.”

“She what?”

“She beat me.  She sparred with me.  And she beat me.  She’s really good, Toph.  She’s about as much a prodigy as you were, I think.”

Mother had raised her eyebrows, grinning.  

“Of course I’m not surprised.  I know she’s good.  But I didn’t think she was _that_ good until today.  Did ya knock Uncle Aang on his butt, Lin?”

“Heck yeah, I did!”

“She did,” he laughed.  “Pretty hard, too.”

“That’s my girl,” Mother ruffled Lin’s hair.

They had visited for a bit with Uncle Aang and Aunt Katara, who was not at all pleased at the state of the grass around where Aang and Lin’s sparring match had taken place.  But when Bumi put a grasshopper in her hair, she forgot it quickly, rounding on him once she had danced around and finally batted the thing out of her hair.  Uncle Sokka even showed up at some point.  Mother had told him the story immediately and they both laughed at poor Aunt Katara’s bug scare.

On the way home, Mother was nearly silent.  Lin was used to it.  She didn’t tend to force conversation.  It happened naturally or not at all.  But eventually she did speak.

“So, you beat the Avatar in a bending spar today, Linny-bear.  How does that feel?”

Lin grinned at the nickname.  Her mother loved nicknames.  You either had to be loved, or infamous, to get one from her.  Most that had one were loved, though.  The more she loved someone, the more they had.  And Lin knew she had the most out of anyone.  Her mother never called her the same thing twice.

“It’s cool.  Have I mastered earthbending?”

“Well, we’d have to test you for that.  Even if you haven’t though, you’re close.  You got good quick, kid.  Some people work for decades to master some of the stuff you know.  You did it in a few short years.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.  So, I was thinking it’s time we move on.”

“And do what?!” Lin had asked, alarmed.  Was she telling her it was time to stop earthbending?  That was all Lin really wanted to do!

“Hm.  Well, I’m not sure if you’re up for it-” Mother teased.

“Mother, what is it?!”

“I was thinking it was time you started metalbending training.”

Lin gasped.

“Really?!  I’m really going to start metalbending training?!”  Only the best, most talented earthbenders got to learn to metalbend from Mother.  And even then, some of them didn’t have the skill to do it.

“Yeah, if you want to.”

“I do!  I really do!  Thank you thank you!”

Mother had laughed her signature laugh.

“Don’t thank me, thank yourself.  You earned it, short stuff.  You did a good job, Lin.”

Lin beamed.  Her mother never gave unwarranted praise.  If it wasn’t right, she would say so.  So if her mother praised her, she knew she had done well.

“I’ll warn you.  Metalbending will not come as easily as earthbending.  It may take weeks before you can even move a coin.  It’s difficult, stubborn work.  Don’t get discouraged if things don’t happen immediately.  But I think you’ll get there.  You are _my_ kid after all.”

Lin grinned the entire way home.

She thought her mother had been exaggerating.  But the next day Lin discovered how much work metalbending was going to be.

“Okay, kiddo, what you have to remember is that metal is just purified earth.  What you have to do is look for the impurities and concentrate your bending on that.  It’s not easy.”

“How did you learn it?”

“I was in a metal box.  Someone had me and was trying to cart me back to my parents.’”

Lin wrinkled her nose.  She had heard stories about Lao and Poppy Bei Fong.

“I was so desperate at that point, I was trying anything.  I banged on that box for so long I finally found the earth in it.  It takes pressure and pain, kid.  But if you can work through it, you’ll be able to do it.”

Lin nodded once.

“Okay.  Here we go.  Your first task is just to move the coin from here to there.  Just look for the earth in it.”

Within three hours, Lin was so frustrated, sweating, aiming all her energy at the coin, that she wanted to cry.  She held it in, of course.  But she had no idea it was this complex.  For once in her life, she couldn’t do this immediately, first try.  She didn’t relent.  She threw everything she had into it.  All day, she worked at it.  Mother just stood by.  When it was starting to get dark, Mother heard the night animals start to stir, smelled the difference in the air, and said, “Alright.  That’s enough for today.  Come on, let’s go inside half-pint.”

Lin hung her head.

“Linny-bear, I told you it wasn’t easy.”

Lin said nothing in return.  She was too disappointed, too frustrated with herself.

“You’ll get there.”

“But you metalbended the first time you even tried.”

“It was on accident, kid.  And it was only after about ten hours in that box.  You’ll get it, I promise.  You did a good job, Lin.”

“But I didn’t even bend anything.”

“No.  But you gave everything you had, didn’t you?  Really, truly?”

“Yes.”

“Then you did well.  Bei Fongs never give up, and they give everything they have.  You did those things.”

And so Lin got up the next day and tried again.  And the next.  And the next.  Each day wore down her resolve just a little more.  Sometimes mother was there, but sometimes she was at work.  Regardless, she trained every day.  After two weeks, she still hadn’t moved that coin.  Lin had to learn then, what it meant never to give up.  It was an easy thing to say when things came easily.  But this maddening, grueling work with no result at all was what built up her perseverance.  Her strength.  She refused to stop.  There were days that she was up even before her mother was, outside, trying to move that coin, and when her mother came home after dark, she hadn’t left to stay with Aang like she was supposed to.  She had stayed in the front yard, trying to move that coin, and was still right there where her mother left her.  Lin learned then never to give up, even if one never achieved what they were after.  Another try, no matter how much it took from her, was better than sitting there, doing nothing.  She didn’t care if she _never_ learned how to do it.  She would keep working for the rest of her life trying anyway.  

There was one such night, though, that her mother didn’t come strolling into the yard and calmly force her back inside.  Mother had rushed up to the house, far earlier than normal.  Lin’s throat closed up as she saw the look on Mother’s face.  She was obviously shaken.  _Nothing_ ever phased her.  Lin had never seen her mother look anything but calm and stoic, with a little dash of arrogance thrown in.

“Come on, Lin, in the house,” she commanded.  Her voice was shaking.  Lin had never heard that either.  She started to panic.

“Mother, what’s going on?  What happened?”

“I’ll explain later.”

Lin watched her mother shove clothes and a few other necessities into a bag that belonged to Uncle Sokka.

“Where are we going?”

“We’re spending the night with Uncle Aang and Aunt Katara.  Uncle Sokka’s coming too.  They’re coming to pick us up on Appa in a few minutes.”

Lin sat quietly, shaking a little.  She didn’t badger her mother with questions.  She had said she would tell Lin later.  And Mother looked and sounded so upset that Lin didn’t really want to talk with her much right then.  It was too unsettling.  Soon Lin felt the familiar gush of wind that meant the flying bison had landed.  Uncle Sokka was in the door in seconds.

“Come on, you two, let’s not linger.”

Lin watched Uncle Sokka squeeze her mother’s shoulder and keep his hand there.  So he could tell that she was upset too.  He helped her up on Appa and then scooped Lin up and put her up there too.  Sokka clambered up on the bison right after her.  Uncle Aang was there at the reins, as always.  Her mother pressed herself up against Uncle Sokka, huddled a little.  Lin thought she heard him say, “It’s okay, Toph.  It’s over.” But she wasn’t sure.  She sat in the middle of the large saddle, shivering a little.

“Hey, Lin, come sit up here with Uncle Aang,” Aang patted a space next to him at the front of the saddle.  “You’re going to learn to fly an air bison today!”

Lin smiled as much as she could.  She loved her Uncle Aang.  He was always so good at making people feel better.  She sat next to him and he put an arm around her.

“Okay, you remember what to say, right?  Help me out.”

“Appa, yip yip!”

The bison took off with a grumble.

“Uncle Aang?”

“Yes, Lin?”

“What’s going on?  Mother wouldn’t tell me.”

Aang sighed.

“There was a trial today for a very misguided man that has been hurting people in the city for a long time.  Some things went wrong there.  You know your mother had to be there since she’s the chief of police.  Well, the man got out and had me, your mother, and Uncle Sokka out of commission for a moment.  Everyone is alright, so don’t panic.  I found him and took care of it.  He’s not going to hurt anyone again.  But your mother is still shaken up about it.  You know no one has ever gotten close enough to her to stop her.  But this man was a very powerful bender.  She’s never been through this before.  Just be patient with her.  Don’t be angry with her if she’s a little on-edge for a while.  She just needs some time.”

“Is she alright?”

“She’s fine, sweetie.  I’m the Avatar, I should know, right?” he grinned playfully.  But that was the first time Lin saw the weight in Uncle Aang’s eyes along with the sparkle.

“Why are we all going to your house tonight?”

“Well, we want to make sure that that man doesn’t have any friends that are mad about all this.  Air Temple Island is one of the safest places in the city.  We have to make sure everyone is okay tonight, just in case.”

She would be glad to get to Air Temple Island and see Kya and Bumi and Tenzin.  The adults in her life right now looked very serious and scared.  It was frightening to realize that they weren’t invincible.  Especially her mother.  No one could beat her mother.  No one.  But someone had today.  Lin didn’t want to think about it for too long.

She was glad to see Aunt Katara, too.  She welcomed Lin with one of her warm hugs.  Katara was a lot softer and warmer than Mother.  Sometimes it was nice.  But Mother was stronger.  Secure.  Or, Lin had thought she was.  She wasn’t sure anymore.

They all slept in the living room that night, the kids in the middle of the room, the adults on the outside.  Lin was curled up between Kya and Tenzin.  They put Bumi on the outside so he couldn’t dip anyone’s fingers in water or something during the night.  Kya had Lin wrapped in her arms, just like Aunt Katara would do.  She was warm and soothing.  But for practical Lin, soothing words only went so far.  Eventually, her discerning brain would tell her why they were empty, why they didn’t help.  She still shook a little, even with Kya stroking her hair.  Tenzin arched a grave eyebrow at her.

“Why are you scared, Lin?”

Lin had shrugged, more than a little hostile.  The adults were gathered on the outside of the room, out of earshot from them.

“Why does it matter to you?  And I’m not scared.”

“You are,” Tenzin murmured, eyes cast down.  “So am I.”

“Well why are _you_ scared, then?”

“Probably the same reason you are.”

“Which is?”

“That now you know she’s not perfect.  And it’s scary.”

“Who’s not perfect?” 

“Your mother.  Just like my father’s not.  I’ve never seen him scared before today.”

Lin stayed silent.  Tenzin might be annoying, but he did unfailingly tell the truth.  His brain worked like hers.  Logical and compartmentalized.  He always knew the truth.  He just tended to present it in a gentler, more intellectual manner than brash Lin.

“What do we do?” Lin finally asked.

Tenzin sighed.

“Nothing.  Just, keep going.  There’s nothing to do about it.  Let it wash over you and then let it go.”

Such an airbender, Lin had scoffed.  He was right in a lot of ways.  But the idea that she could do nothing was not one that had ever occurred to her, and she wasn’t about to start then.  If Tenzin said there was nothing to be done about it, he just hadn’t looked hard enough for the right thing to do.  Still, there was nothing to be done about it tonight.  Lin eventually curled up to go to sleep, huddled against Kya, hand stretched out toward Tenzin, who understood things.  Lin woke up sometime in the night to urgent whispers.  She identified the first voice as Uncle Sokka.

“Toph stop. Stop, it’s okay.  Just calm down.”

Lin tensed, alarmed, as she heard her mother.  She was _crying_.  She had never heard her mother cry.  She was sure Uncle Sokka had never heard it either.

“I really was blind.  It’s the first time in my life I’ve actually been blind.  I couldn’t see anything.  It was dark and I couldn’t move-” she gasped.

“Toph-”

“And all I could think about was how I wouldn’t know if he did something to any of you.  I wouldn’t be able to feel it, I couldn’t move.  I couldn’t help you.  I wouldn’t have known.  I kept wondering if he’d get out and get to Lin or something.  If he did-”

“He didn’t.  He didn’t, it’s okay,” Uncle Sokka reiterated, trying to calm her.  Her mother said nothing after.  Her mother was that scared over not being able to “see” to protect all of them.  It wasn’t about her.  It was about everyone else.  That was the night Lin learned that Bei Fongs are there to protect.  They protect people.  They protect the ones they love.  Lin resolved to protect her mother from worrying about her as she went to sleep.  The next morning, Lin marched outside early, before anyone was awake.  She had swiped a coin from Uncle Sokka’s pocket.  He never woke up.  Everyone knew that it’d take an earthquake to wake Sokka, and even so, he might not stir completely.  Lin scowled at the coin and it flew halfway to the shoreline of Air Temple Island.  Lin nodded once.  She had known that the coin would move.  Because it had to.  She was giving it no choice.  Just like she had no choice.  She had to learn to defend herself.  She could not rely on her mother to do that for her.  She could not forever worry her like that.  She wanted Mother to know that she was safe because she would know that Lin could take care of herself.  And when she got good enough, maybe she could even take care of Mother, too.  So that she would not have to cry like that again.

When Mother awoke, Lin could feel her hand on the ground, looking for Lin.  And she could feel sightless eyes widen as she felt where Lin was.  Outside, bending the entire contents of Aunt Katara’s coin purse into intricate shapes.  Lin watched her mother stand in the doorway, grinning, feeling the shapes that Lin was making in tiny circles of brass and copper and nickel and gold.  Lin had looked towards her mother with a clenched jaw and hard eyes.

“You don’t have to worry about me, Mother.  I can earthbend and I can metalbend, now, too.  I can defend myself.”

Mother’s smile had dissolved when Lin spoke.  She shook her head.

“I know how well you earthbend, and knew you’d be able to metalbend once your mind was in the right place.  You’re good, short stuff, and don’t ever think I don’t know it.  And I think you could kick anyone’s butt you wanted to.  But-” Mother had walked over and leaned down to run calloused fingers through Lin’s dark hair, “I’m afraid you can’t stop me from worrying about you.  I have since you were born and I will till I die.  Because I love you so much.  I don’t have to worry about you, but I want to.  You’re the most important person in the world to me, Linny-bear.”

Lin had tucked herself under Mother’s chin at that point.  

“I was worried about _you_ , Mother.  You were scared yesterday.”

Mother had nodded.

“Yes.  It’s okay to worry and it’s okay to be scared.  What matters is that you don’t let it stop you.  If you have to, let it fuel you to keep going.  You don’t give up.  And _you_ never give up, my little badgermole.  I’ve never seen you give in.  Hell, you’re the youngest metalbender to have ever lived.”

Lin’s eyes widened.  “Really?”

“Yeah.  I was a few years older when I did it.  All of my officers were adults before they figured it out.  My youngest pupil at my metalbending school when I first started was a year older than you.  You’ve done a good job, Lin.  And I know you’ll continue to.”

Lin had nodded and smiled.  That was the day she had learned two things.  That Bei Fongs never give up, and that above all, they protect people.  They protect the ones they love.


End file.
